Saturday Lost due to weather.......

[ Scene fade in to focus on an old Frenchman in a black toboggan]



Old Frenchman: 'Ello......I am Jacques Cousteau, and today ve vill be exploring zee downtown area for zee creature known as zee Beech Hobos [Beach Hobos].



[Camera pulls out to show Jacques in a khaki safari getup, complete with knee high socks. With him are two identically dressed weedy-looking assistants]



Jacques: Ah'm sure you all know my assistants........Raoul.......and from my previous expeditions.........zee faithful Felipe.



[Camera moves slowly down a tree lined cobblestone street to a riverfront wharf, while Jacques' voice whispers in the background]



Jacques [off camera]: Oh hoo hoo! Zis prey, she is a tricky one! Zee Beech Hobo population has been in decline over zee last decades......weeth ze loss of prime feeding grounds along zee public beeches [beaches] mostly to blame. We have been een zis area for weeks, tracking what could be zee last known refuges of zis majestic creature.



[Camera pans to Jacques, crouched behind a trash can; while Raoul and Felipe hold a large map over their faces with holes cut out so they can see.]



Jacques: Oh Ho ho! Zere zey are! Ze majestic Beech Hobos! A sight like zis is very rare indeed! [excitedly points to a small group of homeless men, huddled under a picnic shelter trying to get out of the weather]



[Jacques sneaks closer to the picnic shelter, holding up a small branch in a ridiculous attempt to conceal themselves. Raoul and Felipe walk sideways toward the homeless, their faces clearly visible through the cut outs in the map. The homeless men are all looking at the Frenchmen as they move to withing 6 feet from the picnic shelter.]



Jacques: Oh ho! Even though zey have spotted us, they vill not run. Zey have become accustomed to zee presence of people. Over the years, these Majestic Creatures have now been reduced to being fed by man.......



[Jacques raises his arm in a "ready" signal]



Jacques:........Felipe.....



[Behind him, Felipe readies a bucket he seemed to have pulled from thin air. Inside appears to be fish parts surrounded by gristle and red jello]



Jacques:.......Ze Chum........ [Jacques' arm falls in a "go" sign]



[Felipe hurls the bucket of Chum at the homeless men in the shelter. Being hit by the nasty mess, they react loudly]



Hobo #1: What the hell?!?!?......What IS this......

Hobo #2: Can I have a dollar?

Hobo #1:.....I am a MAN dammit, and I deserve to be treated with more respect than this......

Hobo #3: The devil's in my pancakes?!?!



Jacques:.....Ah, see how they wallow in ze chum. They are not satisfied and still zey cry out for more......Felipe.....ease their hunger..........



[Felipe seems to magically have pulled yet another bucket of Chum from thin air. With a grunt, he hurls it at the group in the shelter, hitting Hobo #1 squarely in the chest]



Hobo #3: More pancakes please!

Hobo#1: That's it!! I'm calling the cops!!! [grabs bundle of belongings, runs from the shelter]

Hobo #2: I said I wanted a dollar!



Jacques: Zat is all zee time ve have for today. Come back next time as ve hunt for zee Southern Goth.



[Music fade out, Jacques does a crazy Frenchman jig with Felipe. Raoul stands there, holding map over face still]

_______________________________________________________________



Ah, the weekend. Nothing says "I love you" like going downtown in a thunderstorm to go to the farmer's market (that was closed because of the weather) with your wife.



But the day wasn't a total loss. We found a new place to eat called The Dixie Grill. It seemed to have been an old southern Diner that had been restored to an alternative breakfast restaurant. It seemed to attract tourist, privileged idiots who felt like not obeying the "please wait to be seated" sign and waiting 20 minutes for a table and instead seated themselves, and us. After a better-than-expected breakfast, we tried to do a little shopping by huddling under our too small umbrella and walking in the downtown. Well, most of the businesses there were bars...and closed. Also, people don't seem to understand how to walk around someone holding an umbrella. Most passerby insisted on using the "run straight at the guy and see if he moves" approach. Given that said "guy" is about 6', weighs 260 lbs, has studied martial arts(we call it "dancing" in the family), and is called Fat Rock; I don't think he moved. As we were walking, we found the hobos. Hence the above story.



Fat Rock.